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La Liga Crunch Time
The return to Madrid from Manchester was, as always, a spectacle at the airport. Atlético Madrid fans had shown up in force to welcome the team home, and airport security had to work hard to keep them from surging forward. Cameras clicked, fans screamed, and the entire squad walked through it all like conquering heroes, an army returning from battle.
Lance, dressed in a black suit, drew the most attention by a significant margin.
Griezmann was quietly offended.
"It's one thing that he's brilliant at football, but does he have to look like that too? I was supposed to be the best-looking person at this club."
Saúl gave him a withering look.
"With Fernando Torres here, it was never going to be your turn."
Fernando Torres, the blond veteran, happened to walk past at that exact moment. Griezmann looked at him, then silently dropped the argument.
After the comeback win against Manchester City in the first leg, the Madrid media had spent the following two days in a state of euphoria. Lance's hat-trick, and that final long-range winner in particular, had become the most talked-about moment in the city. Spanish fans were using it as ammunition in every argument with Premier League supporters online.
Inside the Atlético Madrid camp, though, nobody had time to dwell on it. Three days later, La Liga Matchday 32 was already upon them.
They were still four points behind Barcelona.
"Espanyol are in good form at home today and are posing some problems for Atlético Madrid. With most of the key players coming off the back of the Champions League first leg, the squad has been rotated heavily. Lance starts on the bench."
La Liga Matchday 32: Espanyol vs. Atlético Madrid.
Commentator Duan Xuan was a little frustrated.
He had been assigned to the previous Manchester City vs. Atlético Madrid Champions League tie, but that had been handled by LeSports with Liu Jiayuan on commentary. Today's La Liga fixture was Duan Xuan's assignment, which meant he hadn't yet had a chance to call Lance live.
He would get his opportunity sooner than expected.
"Asensio!! That shot has gone in!!"
Just before half-time, Espanyol had been defending for over forty minutes, and then suddenly broke forward on the counter. With key defensive midfielders Gabi and Koke both absent, and Godín also rested, Atlético's rotated defensive line switched off for a moment.
Asensio latched onto the ball, beat the offside trap, rounded the goalkeeper, and finished into an empty net.
Asensio was a young talent on loan from Real Madrid, fast and technically sharp. Combined with striker Caicedo's movement pulling defenders away, Espanyol had produced a clean, well-constructed attack.
1-0.
Espanyol, Barcelona's city rivals, had just done Barcelona a favor against their title rivals.
"As expected from our Catalan brothers!"
"Come on, take Atlético down!"
"Today we put aside everything. Catalonia united!"
Barcelona fans online were thrilled. Atlético Madrid had been making them genuinely nervous throughout the season, and anyone who could take points off them was welcome.
Espanyol fans were less enthusiastic about the solidarity.
"Who's uniting with who exactly?"
"We just want our three points. Barcelona can get lost."
"We win our own games. What's it got to do with Catalonia?"
Atlético Madrid fans, meanwhile, had no interest in any of it. Their attention was entirely on the match.
"Should Lance come on in the second half?"
"He has to come on. Otherwise we might actually lose this."
"The moment the savior steps onto the field, everything calms down."
Lance's role for Atlético Madrid fans was something like Fan Zhendong being brought on in a decisive moment for the national table tennis team, or Faker appearing in the lineup at the League of Legends World Championship.
Like spotting a certain bald figure in a yellow uniform when the monsters are getting too close. Like Lam Ching-ying showing up when the vampires appear. Like realizing the Eva Unit-01 still has power after all.
The moment he appeared on the sidelines, fans knew the game was in hand.
From the very start of the second half, nobody in the ground was watching the field. Every pair of eyes tracked the touchline, waiting for the substitution board to go up.
Even Commentator Duan Xuan, every time the broadcast camera caught Lance stretching along the sideline, couldn't help but mention him.
"Lance is warming up. Atlético Madrid are still a goal down away from home, and Espanyol's defensive structure has given them very few clean looks at goal so far. The time is coming to lean on a superstar and break the deadlock with sheer individual quality."
In the 63rd minute, during a stoppage in play, the substitution board appeared on the touchline.
The Atlético Madrid away end erupted. The away supporters' voices cut through the noise of over 30,000 home fans like they were nothing.
"Lance!"
"Lance!"
"Lance!"
Even Spanish commentator José Ángel paused in admiration.
"This young man has completely won over the Atlético Madrid fanbase. I have never seen anyone achieve this so thoroughly."
Atlético had used both changes at once, bringing on Lance and Saúl together.
Saúl, standing next to Lance as they waited to enter the field, glanced around at the reception.
"How come no one's shouting my name?"
"Because I'm better looking." Lance patted him on the shoulder.
"Oh, f..." Saúl opened his mouth, thought about it, and stopped himself.
Lance was, genuinely, better looking.
Fine. Playing the supporting role behind Lance wasn't so bad. At least all the pressure landed on the other guy. If Atlético lost today, every word of criticism would go Lance's way. Not a single headline would mention Saúl.
With great power comes great responsibility, and all that.
Only the people inside the dressing room truly understood how much was sitting on Lance's shoulders behind all the glamour.
The moment both players were on the field, Atlético's attacking intensity jumped a level. Ángel Correa shifted to the left and began combining with Lance in a way that came naturally to both of them.
Against Espanyol's defense, Lance was relaxed in a way he rarely got to be against top opponents. The muscle memory alone was more than enough. Three defenders converged on him, and he simply twisted between them, slipping through without any of them laying a hand on him.
"Lance!! Brilliant!! What a run!!"
Commentator Duan Xuan let himself go.
A rabona drag to change direction, a quick left-foot elastico to send one defender the wrong way, a nutmeg through the legs of a third. Three players beaten in two seconds. He then slipped a through pass to Ángel Correa just outside the box on a diagonal run.
Correa clipped the ball to the far post inside the area. Saúl arrived on time to receive it. The rotated striker Luciano's forward run had compressed the shape, leaving Saúl just enough room to roll a cut-back.
Lance struck the ball from the penalty spot without controlling it first.
A Tiger-style drive into the top corner.
"Goal!! Lance!!"
"Five minutes after coming on, Lance equalises for Atlético Madrid! Saúl with the assist!"
Just as advertised. As long as Lance is on the field.
The look on the Espanyol players' faces said everything. A top-three player in the world had come on as a substitute just to level the score. That wasn't the end of it.
In the 76th minute, Atlético won a corner.
Ángel Correa delivered it low to the near post. Lance flicked it subtly with his right heel, took it past the defender, turned, and volleyed it from a tight angle.
The ball flew into the net.
"What a goal!!! In again!! A brace!!"
"Lance now has 44 La Liga goals this season, closing in on Messi's record of 50!!"
With six rounds remaining, the once-untouchable record was starting to look genuinely reachable.
As for the match, the result had stopped being in doubt the moment Lance walked onto the field.
In the 80th minute, under pressure from three defenders, Lance held the ball up with his back to goal, turned, and played a through pass. Ángel Correa finished cleanly inside the area.
1-3.
Atlético Madrid had their three points.
"On the live table, Atlético Madrid are now just one point behind Barcelona, with a game in hand! The title race is still very much alive!"
"And at the same time, Lance continues to chase Messi's La Liga goal record..."
Across the city, in Catalonia, inside the Camp Nou locker room, Lionel Messi sat watching the final moments on a television screen. His jaw tightened.
Piqué, always observant, reached over and turned the TV off.
"Don't watch it, Leo. We're going to win today, no question."
"And your record isn't going anywhere easily," Rakitić added, trying to help.
Messi raised a hand, silencing both of them.
Neither of them said another word.